I am just trying to get it down so I don't forget. Which happens a lot. My non-virtual journal entries tend to devolve into lists of things to do that never get done. This place is filling up fast with brainfarts. Here, take this clothespin.
If Google brought you here, I'm sorry. You are unlikely to find what you were searching for. But there's plenty to see if you care to browse around.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

No he di-int

Walking around the neighborhood trying to get errands run I walk by this old man who says, "Chink!" turning his head as I pass him clearly directing the comment at me. This hasn't happened to me since I was in grade school. Okay, maybe high school. Back then it would take so long to register than a person had said something unkind and racist to me that I would say nothing in reply.

This time in response I took the high road and started yelling at him right on the street.We had a nice loud exchange of unkind epithets in which he called me a "Chink Bastard" and I called him a "Racist Jackass" and each proceeded along our merry way.

At which point I felt a little bad for yelling at a mean stupid old man.

Then I tried to imagine how much work it would be to say "Honkey" or "Cracker" every time I passed by a white person.Or how much effort would be involved in saying "Bitch" to every woman I passed on the street.And I started to laugh.